Hipsters and underwear

Hipsters are like the underwear found at Victoria Secret. On first appearance, they are incredibly cute. I want them. They have cute patterns. Without thinking, I buy them. However, within a couple hours they make uncomfortable. I squirm, and feel them riding up my butt. "How are people comfortable like this?"  Well, this is what I asked for. After a couple of days, the cute underwear is falling apart at the seams  reminding me how cheap it is. The same pattern is on every other butt cheek, taking the cute design from cute to cliche in my mind. I take them off and toss them. No point in keeping something I'll never wear. Soon, I will forget this awkward lesson and I will see a cute pair of underwear at a Victoria Secret sale and begin the cycle again. Same style, different pattern. Same hipster, different moustache.

Half a bottle of wine will provide strange writings: please forgive.

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfaEPSqEJpN5uskU0Rj5n9KeOOUSYPd8-9Of21keuIvYRaBYWQHvUI-6vmH3EmTGLWP_JNaxf7_BxqDKdf2udGzvs64IqaXfwXURCHQYHglXpv5sUg-SuUB4Vi81lkrZl-taofcjl7_dw/s1600/Cotton_hipster.png

Conversations with the bus

I always think of the bus as a living creature. Bus's grow old, have a life-span, struggle up hill, become overwhelmed, breathe, and struggle with each passing day the same as you and I.